


The True Family of Sirius Black

by Dorkangel



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Angst with a Happy Ending, Azkaban, Baby Harry, Fluff and Angst, Gen, James Potter Lives, Lily Lives, Sirius Black Free from Azkaban, Sirius Needs a Hug, The Potters Live
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-12
Updated: 2015-04-12
Packaged: 2018-03-22 12:25:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3728875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorkangel/pseuds/Dorkangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius Black spent five years in Azkaban for a crime he didn't commit: ostensibly, because he was thought to have sold out his best friends in the world to the terrorist Voldemort, and in reality because after the civil war he had simply become lost in a tangle of lies and paperwork.<br/>They let him out on his godson's sixth birthday, and he doesn't have anywhere to go but James and Lily's house...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The True Family of Sirius Black

He didn't know what to do. He just genuinely didn't know.  
Six years spent behind bars, for a crime he didn't commit, and then he heard he was being released and _the day after_ he heard he was out. The. Day. After.  
 _It's the Umbridge scandal,_ the lawyer he had been sent had explained apologetically. _The government's opening all the closed files to look for corruption, and apparently someone found your case._  
And realised that he had so very, very obviously not killed one of his childhood best friends while simultaneously betraying everyone else that ever gave a damn about him (And his family was not on that list, so it wasn't like he could go to them).  
"I am Sirius Black." he muttered out loud. The words tasted dry in his mouth, like dust. "I am twenty eight years old. I got let out of Azkaban yesterday and I don't know what to do with myself."  
Azkaban: ha! What a fuckin' joke of a place. Had ordinarily been used for the average criminal lowlife, as far as Sirius understood, and then Tom Riddle decided that it'd be fun to form a terrorist organisation to try and take over the country, and BAM Azkaban was overflowing with people that were on the wrong side of the civil war. Some of them, like Sirius, had done nothing wrong.  
But so many people had chosen to fight for the guy trying to kill anyone who didn't agree with him, become 'Death Eaters', and Azkaban was full of them. Sirius didn't want to even try and work out how many of them were related to him; a lot, to say the least.  
The only real family he'd ever known was Remus and James and Lily and even Peter, before that rat had gone and sold them out to the Death Eaters and framed Sirius for it. He didn't ever find out if Remus had gotten the letter he had sent, trying to explain that he would never ever ever betray them, because shortly after he'd posted it someone worked out that the imprisoned Deatheaters were sending coded messages to those still on the outside and stopped the whole post.  
He had almost gone crazy in Azkaban. It was full of evil people and evil things - and like a bloody family reunion, Christ, all he could say was thank god cousin Bellatrix was too busy cackling and rocking in the corner to recognise him - and no one seemed to care if he stopped taking his pills (Remus had always kept a check of whether or not he took the pills when he was meant to- they stopped him from psychotically freaking out), or even if he stopped eating altogether.  
He'd lost a lot of weight.  
Vaguely, Sirius realised that if eight-years-ago Sirius saw him now he'd have a heart attack. He would probably give any passing old ladies a scare too, with his too-loose t-shirt and his long, dirty trench-coat, his scraggly, greasy hair and his sunken, hopeless eyes.

Before he really knew what was going on, Sirius was sat on a park bench in the closest town to Azkaban: he guessed it was probably a cheerful seaside town, once upon a time, and then the civil war happened and the prison became dangerous to live near.  
"S'cuse me," he grated out, as an apathetic-looking teenager in a parka sidled past. "Could you give me the date?"  
The kid gave him an odd look, like he was sort of wondering how a corpse was talking, and then reluctantly gave it up.  
"Thirty first of July, 1986."  
Thirty first of July. Why did that mean something to him?  
 _...oh._  
"Got a phone?" he continued, half-panic sparking in his mind. Sirius kind of felt like he was going to cry, actually.  
"There's a phone box over there." suggested the kid hesitantly, and then hurried on. Sirius didn't blame him: when half-dead weirdos start asking you questions, you should probably get out of the way.

"Remus," he rasped unsteadily, and then stopped. No one had picked up, but that didn't calm his nerves at all. "Remus, it's me. Sirius Black. I- I don't even know if this is still your number. Just... I'm calling from a payphone: they just let me out. Of Azkaban. They say they looked and I didn't do it, and I didn't, I swear, I'd never- It's Harry's birthday today, isn't it? He'll be six."  
The last time that Sirius had seen Harry, the kid had been just about to turn one. He was James and Lily's son, and the exact picture of James. All messy dark hair and loud, opinionated, baby babbling, only with Lily's intelligent green eyes.  
"They won't want to see me." he continued, choking a little on the words. "I don't know where else to go, though. I'm gonna- I'm going to Godric's Hollow."

*

Sirius had slept on the bus. 'The Night Bus', or so the conductor had enthusiastically announced, which apparently just meant that it made an effort to cover as ground as possible during just one night. By the time they got to Godric's Hollow, he was a little more awake.  
The Night Bus dropped him off only a few doors down from James and Lily's house.  
"I'm Sirius Black." he repeated to himself, through gritted teeth. "I'm twenty eight years old. I didn't betray my friends. I don't have anything to feel guilty about."  
But that wasn't completely true, was it? He had made the decision, at the least second, to tell Peter where James and Lily were hiding, and Peter had sold them out. He hadn't meant to, and it wasn't his fault, but... they had almost died. His _best friends_ had almost _died_ because _he_ made a mistake.  
The nerves in his stomach were beginning to make him nauseous. What if James hated him? What if they didn't trust him around the child that had nearly died because of _him_?  
This wasn't going to go well, he was sure of it. Still, he plowed on. This was the only vaguely plausible idea he had had since he had been let out.

Their house was full of light against the dark of the night, and filled with happy voices. When Sirius glanced through the window on his right, he could see a bunch of excited small children - a suspicious number of them ginger - running around and giggling.  
 _I don't belong here_ , he thought numbly.  
And then pressed the bell despite that.

Three or four excruciating seconds passed slowly. Sirius didn't move; he barely breathed.

The face that opened the door was both aching familiar and disconcertingly foreign. The dark hair was a little shorter than it had been, but still a mess, and he was hardly wrinkled, but there were subtle new lines around his face. His glasses were similar to the old ones he had worn, but they were new.  
Behind his glasses, his eyes widened in shock, and Sirius had just enough time to register the little changes in James and that movement itself before he was wrapped up in a desperately tight embrace.  
"Sirius!" yelled James, delighted, and then he was jerked out of the other man's grip and was being held at arm's length and surveyed. "You're here! How-"  
"They let me out yesterday." he croaked. There were tears sparking up behind his eyelids, so he looked away and just tried to keep talking over the catch in his throat. "Someone reviewed my case, Albus Dumbledore, and decided I was innocent after all. I t-tried to call R-Remus, but he didn't a-answer."  
James hugged him again, and this time it was fierce and warm and exactly like when they were kids and Sirius ran away from home to turn up James's house. James's mum used to introduce them as her sons. The thought of that broke something in him, and he threw his arms around his old friend to hug back.  
"I knew you didn't." whispered James. The guy was an adult now, he had a wife and a son and a job and a life, but he sounded exactly like the James who had always believed him when he promised he hadn't had the last cupcake. "You're my brother, Sirius. I knew you didn't betray us."  
They dragged themselves apart from each other, and shakily smiled.  
"Christ." laughed James, forcing himself a little. "You're a mess, mate. You're staying with us until we can sort things out, do you understand?"  
"Alright." agreed Sirius gladly, and it felt kind of like his future was beginning to take a recognisable shape. A good one. "What about Harry?"  
"You're his godfather."  
Oh god. He was. He was Harry's godfather. Jesus fucking Christ on a tricycle-  
James knew he was freaking out a little, and offered him the exact same half-grin that meant _I've got it all sorted out, don't worry, it's only partially illegal and only somewhat dangerous_ , and which probably shouldn't have calmed Sirius down but did anyway.  
"Mr Potter?" called a high little voice, and his attention snapped to a girl who stood at about knee height. Her hair was huge and bushy, and her brows were very seriously furrowed. She had chosen to completely ignore Sirius and was tugging on the leg of James's trousers.  
"Hi, Hermione." smiled James back at her, instinctively bending down so that they were the same height. "What's up?"  
"Neville ate his party popper." She sounded long-suffering, and Sirius couldn't help but smile rustily.  
James blinked at her, owlish from behind his spectacles. " _How_?" he asked, awed, and she didn't bother to reply.  
"Um, he'll probably be ok..." offered James, ruffling a hand through his hair and looking lost. "Good for telling me, though."  
"I know the Heimlich." she nodded, and disappeared.  
"She's like a tiny McGonagall." whispered Sirius, grinning.  
"I _know_." agreed James. "She's one of my son's best friends. Keeps him out of trouble."  
"Ah. The Remus of the gang."  
It was surprisingly easy to slip back into their old camaraderie. He still felt as though he was holding up an act, but it didn't hurt to see James like he thought he might.  
"Arthur and Molly's kids are pretty close too." continued James, leading him into the kitchen and stepping over about fifteen pairs of various sizes of children's shoes. "All twenty million of them."  
"The Weaselys?"  
"Yeah. Six boys and a girl, and the youngest boy is Harry's age."  
At the table was a huge mess of what was probably once chocolate cake. Sirius looked up and found, surprised, that he could recognise half of the people there. The Longbottoms's kid, Neville, was perched next to a girl whose white hair and dreamy expression meant she could only be related to Xenophilius Lovegood, and then there was Organised Hermione and a boy with freckles and red hair that meant he was a hundred percent a Weasley, and then...  
Harry. Lily was standing behind him, with a camcorder, laughing softly, and she was just as beautiful as ever. Absently, Sirius recognised that she had glanced up and noticed him, and covered her mouth in shock.  
The kid himself was the perfect picture of James. His smile was lopsided, his hair was vertical, and he couldn't sit still in his seat.  
Sirius looked at him, this little kid, and the warmth and light around him, and didn't feel as though he - Sirius Black, veteran of the civil war against the terrorist Voldemort, survivor of Azkaban, heir of the scumbag House Black - could possibly belong here.  
But James and Lily cared about him, and he had been asked to stay.  
He knew what he was going to do. He was going to stay here.  
With his family.


End file.
